


Catabolic Seed

by orphan_account



Category: Half-Life, Half-Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware - Fandom
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Benrey has a series of realisations, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, self-awareness, unreality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24631465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There's a crack on the wall, his friends hate him, and he's being plagued by cryptic dreams about a coworker he barely knows. Benrey's shitty security job is about to get a whole lot shittier.(title from the song of the same name by the scary jokes)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing that tipped Benrey off to not being human was when Jefferemm asked how long he’d worked at Black Mesa.

Often when they weren’t working, they would find themselves on a small balcony area overlooking one of the main cafeterias. It wasn’t comfy, to say the least; a cold metal grated floor with some bare fences that was easy enough to slip past. It jutted out about 30 feet above the floor, for some purpose they would frequently try to figure out (Jeff’s theory was that it was installed to help fix the constantly flickering fluorescent strip lights, while Benrey preferred to think of it as what would have been the start of a diving board). After shifts Benrey would tend to come and let his legs hang over the edge as he watched his co-workers socialise and move to and fro like some massive, humanoid ant colony.

Admittedly, he had been lost in his own thoughts when Jeff nudged him to ask the question. His partner often rambled on about things Benrey didn’t really care about, like the scientist that lived across from him, or how long it’d been since Josh visited and how they really needed to meet up. Benrey had actually been considering how much damage a penny dropped from this height would do to someone directly below them when Jeff hit him roughly on the shoulder.

“Hey, are you even listening?”

Benrey blinked twice, trying to remember what Jeff had been saying. “....Yeh. Totally.”

“Really?” Jeff narrowed his eyes. “What was I talking about?”

Oops. “... Shark Tales.”

“You never listen dude. It’s like you’re not even there half the time,” his friend snapped, swinging his legs impatiently over the edge. “I was just saying, when was it you started?”

“Started what?”

“Working here, you dumbass.”

“Okay, jeez. Uh…” ...Should it not be the sort of thing that comes naturally? He could definitely remember working, but the actual dates refused to come to mind. “Was a while ago. A long time ago, I don’t remember.”

“What? Not even the month?” Jeff snorted. “Come on, you must remember.”

“No, I-”

“What about the year?”

“It was last February. Okay?” It came out a little harsher than Benrey intended it to. “I remember now. It was on the- it was on the 14th, it was Valentine’s Day.”

“Hah!” Jeff laughed again and turned his gaze back down to the people below. “Lucky you. I was just asking, cause I didn’t remember. Usually when new people come in you hear about it, hm?”

“You don’t- you don’t remember?”

Jeff pauses for a little longer than Benrey would like him to. “...Nope. Don’t remember a thing. You just showed up one shift. I assumed I’d just missed your induction totally.”

“Oh.”

Maybe that’s a blessing in disguise, because the Valentine’s thing was totally made up. In fact, the more Benrey thinks about it, the more he notices how shaky his hands are getting. 

I mean, it’s normal to forget things, right? So much happened here, it’s not like you could be expected to keep track of time. He doesn’t even have a clock or a calendar in his room, he just knows the vague date everytime his schedule gets handed to him. So it’s totally fine to not remember the exact date you moved away from your previous life and started living in one of the most secretive underground research labs in America. Or the month. Or the year.

“...Dude, do you think they have stuff like that on record?” He knew Jeff had already moved onto talking about Josh again, but something in his brain is making him too anxious to let this go. He’s picking at the fabric of his blue shirt, an awkward habit that’s only exacerbated by how itchy the guard uniform gets.

“What?”

“Like- when you-” He needs to get his thoughts together. Why is it so hard? This is why he never speaks, he just lets Jefferemm do the talking for both of them. “They have, like, the day you started working and stuff like that. Would they have it written down somewhere?”

Jeff cocked an eyebrow. Oh God, was he acting suspicious? He totally knew he’d made it up now. Fuck. “...I mean, yeah, they’ll probably have it on a computer or some paperwork somewhere. Why?”

“Just… curious. Do you think if you asked they’d tell you?”

“If you were desperate to know, maybe. I don’t know. Check with HR.”

Benrey had actually forgotten they had a HR department. In fact, he was pretty sure they were only instated like a month ago, after some guy two sectors over was refused sick leave for radiation poisoning. “...Yeah. Okay.”

Jeff opens his mouth like he’s about to ask why, and for a brief moment Benrey’s brain goes haywire trying to think of a reason, but he’s interrupted by Jeff’s watch letting out a small beep. Jeff turns, and then sighs. “Well, that’s my break over. You got another shift?”

“Nah.” Benrey hadn’t realised until he meets Jeff’s gaze now, but he hadn’t been able to make eye contact that whole conversation, instead choosing to bore a hole into the distant wall behind him. He watches Jeff slide under the metal bars, standing up and stretching. “‘I’ll, uhhhh, see you around.”

“Yeh.” Something about Jeff’s tone puts him off, but he’s not sure what. “Later.”

He sits silently while Jeff leaves, his swinging legs having came to a slow and shaky halt. Then he turns his attention back to the people below. He can pick out a few faces he recognises, but no names. Truthfully, Benrey doesn’t talk to many people outside of Jeff, if you can count listening to him ramble while they play games as a conversation. The only other person he can think of is Josh, and sometimes Black Mesa Josh (Jeff had two friends called Josh, one which worked at Black Mesa and one that worked at Gamestop, and Benrey never knew which one he was talking about). Honestly, Black Mesa implanting him with their SweetVoice blue ball bullshit was one of the better things that had happened to him, because it meant he didn’t have to use words half the time. Nobody knows what the colours mean. He can say whatever he wants with them and nobody knows. Words, they’re messy and complicated and he never knows which ones to use, and everyone fucking understands them. 

Benrey briefly considers learning a dead language so he can articulate his feelings in an equally undecipherable but somewhat more socially acceptable way. 

He doesn’t want to go to HR, actually. They’d probably call him cringe or something. Was amnesia a side effect of radiation? No, he couldn’t have amnesia. He was just struggling to remember, that’s all. Totally different things. This was a total non-issue, and Benrey decided that he was going to stop thinking about it now, forever.

The numbers of the cafeteria were slowly depleting, though a few people remained. Benrey’s gaze fell down on one specific table; someone was sitting by themselves, though they didn’t seem to be eating- rather, reading. Maybe all the recreation areas were busy? Or maybe he was just a loser. But what stands out to Benrey is that he recognises him, though he’s not sure from where. He doesn’t remember seeing him working, or anything. Just.. something.

Benrey waits quietly. He’s not sure how much time he spends watching the scientist read, trying to remember where he’s seen him before. But when the scientist is suddenly approached by another angry looking person in a white coat, and he jumps to his feet and rushes out with book in hand, Benrey still can’t remember anything.


	2. Chapter 2

You get used to the noise of Black Mesa- the noise of a base that never stops working, the constant dripping from pipes that people keep putting off fixing, the clank of boots on metal flooring, the muttered exchanges as workers pass each other in empty hallways. At first the constant low hum of machinery was unbearable to Benrey. He tossed at night and held pillows over his head. But in the months (?) he had been stationed there, he had started to become accustomed to it. Some nights it was almost comforting.

Tonight, it was not.

The harsh rushing of water as he turned the tap on was like an icicle through his skull, his legs almost buckling completely as he did it. With shaky hands he swiped some water up and massaged his head, the cool liquid jolting him from his fugue state. He could sense a headache coming on.   
  


Benrey was an adult. This he knew, though he felt he was rarely treated like one. And adults, he told himself, knew nightmares were not real. Just the mind playing tricks on you. Yet here he was, trembling like a stupid idiot baby. Again.

It had been a while since he’d had the dream, if he remembered correctly, but it was the same as it was last time, and the time before. Every time, just when he had stopped thinking about it, it would come back. The same beach. The same pounding heat waves that made him sweat. The same sand, like hot coals. The setting was never the issue, though. The issue was the stranger. Its face was too vague to pick out any discernible features, but-

Breathe. Benrey focuses back on the sound, a little less harsh now. A twist of the tap reduces it to a slow trickle. A slow, soulful guitar track on the radio in the bunker next door. His own strained breathing. There’s a tactic he remembers given to him by a face that he doesn’t, counting to a specific number on each breath. He forgot what the number was a long time ago, so he picks a random one. The first one he thought of was 69, but he has a feeling that might be too long, so he brings it down to 6. He pays attention to the rise and fall of his chest, silently noting that he’s lost a lot of weight recently (is he stressed? Or not eating as much?). He raises his head to look at himself in the mirror; as always, it feels like looking at a stranger.

This is because he panicked earlier today, he knows. It always comes back when he starts to doubt himself. The last time he had it, it was when he found a scar on his arm he didn’t remember being there before. The time before, it was… he didn’t remember.

It’s not clear how much time has passed by the time he’s able to let go of the sink and stand unassisted. The sensation of the sand and the waves are gone, but the sense of dread and taste of bile in his throat unfortunately remain. Slowly, Benrey takes a step back, and then another, and lets out a long, deep sigh. He doesn’t want to go back to sleep. He’s not even tired, though that’s not uncommon for him. Lately he hasn’t been feeling anything but anxious, which scares him a little, and nothing scares Benrey. Something tells him he didn’t feel this.. numb before he started working at Black Mesa, but to be truthful, he can’t remember.

Fuck it. He wasn’t ready to try and sleep again, and he was thirsty as hell. So he would do what he always did; take a walk and marvel at the scenic hallways. 

Benrey pulled on a dark hoodie over his sleepwear (grey sweatpants and a worn shirt with “EPIC GAMER” emblazoned on it in peeling white capitals). Black Mesa was meant to always be at a “pleasant” 20 degrees celsius but he felt like an ice cube half the time. The boilers had probably broken down again, and nobody was bothering to fix them. He kept his feet bare because he couldn't be bothered finding his shoes, and didn't really care about violating protocol- the same reason he let his dark hair sit on his shoulders instead of pinning it back or wearing his helmet. Benrey was pretty sure the hair rule was only for scientists anyways, because he was almost never reprimanded for it when he was off duty. 

As soon as he left the room he felt a little more at ease- the bunkers were so cramped, he thought, even with the shitty little en suites. At least he didn't have to share it with someone else. The corridor he lived on seemed to stretch on forever, an endless line of doors, each containing an equally expendable Black Mesa employee. He didn’t know anybody on this floor, not that it made a difference. Going to cry to someone because you had a bad dream would be cringe as hell. And Benrey was not about to be in a cringe compilation.

He aimlessly wanders up and down the corridor for a while, making an idle game of how many cracks he can count in the walls. The place is falling apart, which is not something you want in a nuclear research facility, but that was always the case. It was nice to go through the place with it almost empty; usually you couldn’t walk five metres without seeing someone. But tonight he couldn’t even see any guards stationed nearby.

Unfortunately, just as he was thinking about how nice it was to be alone, he hears a shout from up ahead. Great.

As he approached the source of the noise, he realised it was coming from one of the small break rooms on his right. It wasn’t anything special, just a few chairs, table, and some vending machines with cheap knock off sodas. Upon looking inside, he could see a scientist still in their lab coat who appeared to be staring at the wall. The scientist turned and scowled at him, a reaction he’d started to get used to.

“What do you call this, then?”

Benrey cocked his head. “‘s a wall, bro.”

“I mean-” the scientist pinched the bridge of their noise and sighed, stepping aside. On the wall was a long, thin crack that stretched from the floor up about 3 feet. From some of the smaller, stray cracks, a translucent grey liquid was leaking. There wasn’t a puddle or anything, so it must have been recent. “...you’re stationed close to this breakroom, correct? Surely you must have noticed this.”

“Nah. I don’t use this breakroom.” This was only half a lie. Benrey couldn’t actually remember the last time he used it. Hadn’t Jeff set the microwave in here alight once? He could visualise the smoke, but it didn’t quite click right with him.

“I… can you at least fix it? Or report it, or something.”

“Wha? It’s not my problem. Report it yourself,” Benrey snapped, a little more aggressively than he meant to. Fuck, he was really bad at controlling his tone. It’s one of the reasons that he resorted to just using his SweetVoice nine times out of ten.

The scientist gritted their teeth. “I’m not from this corridor. I assume you are, since you’re.. not in uniform,” they eyeballed Benrey’s sleepwear with thinly veiled contempt. “I’ve seen you on duty before… you’re a security guard, aren't you?”

Benrey shrugged.

“What are you even doing out of your quarters at this hour? It’s two in the morning, for God’s sake.”

Oh, that was late. Fuck. Where was he meant to be stationed today? It didn’t really matter, he supposed. Someone would wake him up. “Chill, dude,” he said as he pushed past them to get some water, fishing in his hoodie pockets for money. “It’s not like… you know, ’s not a crime to be awake. I was thirsty. Do you have a dollar?” he switched topics quickly upon finding his pockets were empty, spare… a Pokemon card? Yeah, he didn’t remember picking this up. 

“Do I have a…? No. No, I don’t have a dollar. Just get someone on that crack, please, before the wall collapses.” The scientist rolled their eyes and turned to leave.

“Wha? Come on, dude, I’m fucking- I’m parched out here, it's like I'm in the Saha-shara-sarahara, uh, the desert. And I’ll trade you this, uh…” He squinted at the orange card in his hand. “Charizard.”

The scientist hesitated, before mumbling something like “fucking security guards” and a word Benrey was pretty sure he could report as a hate crime if he cared enough. What a dick.

After pressing himself to the floor to check under the machine, getting a thin layer of dust in his hair, and unsuccessfully trying to poke the card into the coin slot, Benrey pushed himself to his knees and accepted the fact he was just going to die of thirst. Charging a dollar for water seemed stupid anyways. His gaze travelled from the empty coin slot back to the sprawling crack in the wall. The liquid leaking from it was by no means fast, but it was still a steady enough trickle that it could cause issues. Oh, and he had absolutely no clue what it was. He had never seen anything like it in his life- the only thing he could think of that even came close was human tears. 

Whatever. He’d get someone else to fix it in the morning. Or something. Even though he was still thirsty, and his head was beginning to pound, it was at least providing a distraction from his dream.

When he got back to his bunker, he didn’t bother taking the hoodie off, instead stepping over the discarded uniform and paper cups scattered on his floor and collapsing onto his bed. He still wasn’t tired. He was  _ never  _ fucking tired. It was odd, because he wasn’t exactly the fittest person alive; he barely ate either. Even this feeling of needing to drink felt unnatural to him, in a way that wondered if he really was thirsty or just nervous.

He wasn’t ready to sleep. Everytime he closed his eyes, he could see the stranger from his dream. Feel its touch, hotter than any sun could make him feel. Feel the sand between his toes. He didn’t know who it was, or why it unnerved him so, but he wasn’t ready to see it again. It was the familiarity that made him so frightened; like someone he’d forced himself to forget about a long time ago.

Benrey turned over in bed and curled up on himself, trying to ignore his painful headache. He decided that he would sleep when he felt tired. 

He laid awake, his eyes boring holes into the walls until Jeff knocked on his door for the 8AM wake-up call.


	3. Chapter 3

Benrey didn’t really remember the last time he went outside. So when he woke up and immediately saw the sky, an overcast grey that stretched on forever, his stomach dropped.

The ground below him was cold, wet and unwelcoming, a sort of marshlike texture that told him it had probably been raining. Clumps of grass dotted the muddy field, leading to a gradient of brown to a dusty pale yellow. Bluffs, and a steep, but manageable drop to that ever familiar beach. The soft, greenish-grey tide, and  _ it _ crouched in the water, as always.

It wasn’t real. As much as he could feel the slight chill, the taste of salt on his breath as he stumbled to his feet… it was just a dream again.

With slow, almost hesitant steps, Benrey made his way down the dunes. For some reason, he was always barefoot, though he swore he’d been wearing his boots. He didn’t actually remember falling asleep, though- one of the reasons it had taken him a moment to realise where he was. He had just been on shift, right? Willing himself back to Black Mesa didn’t seem to do anything but make his head ache, so he would have to do it the way he always did.

The stranger- if he could call it that, Benrey had seen it so many times- turned slightly as he approached, and called out as it always did. “Benrey, come here, check this out!” Its voice, matched with its dark blue bathing shorts, made him believe it was probably male, but its build was small enough that he could guess it was a teenager. The rest was a haze. Even the shirt discarded on the sand (which presumably belonged to it, as the beach was empty) was plain and unmarked. Benrey could see it clearly enough to know it was human, but any features he managed to make out were too vague to discern. Still, it sounded cautiously excited; whatever it was crouched over must be something worth calling him for. 

The sand was still burning hot, despite the weather seeming less appealing than usual, so dipping his feet into the cool water was a slight comfort. It was only about two feet away from him now, still fixated on.. whatever. This was when the dream always cut out- before he could see what had its attention, he would scare it, or it would scare him, and the world would swallow him while and he would wake up in a cold sweat. This time, Benrey was decidedly calmer; to say he was getting used to this wouldn't be fair, as it always frightened him, but at least he had an idea of what to expect. 

He crouched, letting the water ripple around him. The stranger in front of him seemed to straighten up a little, its head raised every so slightly to the left. From where Benrey was sitting, he could almost make out the edge of a smile; a bright one that he felt he should be able to connect an equally warm laugh to. He gingerly raised an arm, reaching out with a shaking hand. He didn’t notice at the time, but neither of them dared to breathe.

As he made contact with its back, the skin seemed to shudder- and, not a moment later, a wide crack bolted upwards, curling like a vine from its hips to the base of its neck. The stranger flinched, and then screamed, an ear piercing shriek that instinctively made Benrey’s hands fly to his head. The fracture widened, a fissure opening to reveal nothing but stretching blackness. From within the void where he swore its heart should have laid beating, a single eye blinked open and stared back at him with unbridled fury.

—

“Ex-excuse me… uh, sir?”

A hand on his shoulder jolted Benrey awake, causing him to involuntarily slap the owner away and take a long, desperate gasp of air. He was alive. He was awake, thank God. It was stupid of him to let his guard down; the ending changed, of course it did. His ears were still ringing from the blood-curdling cry his mind had produced.

The tram. It came back to Benrey now, he had been on the tram back to his room after a shift. When he had boarded, it had been empty, so he had sprawled over one of the seats and.. presumably passed out. Odd, as he hadn't felt tired; but then again, he hadn’t slept at all the night before. 

But now that he was awake, he realised someone else had joined him; the scientist that had woken him up was still perched on the edge of the seat, watching over him anxiously. The man was tall enough that it would be impossible to not loom over Benrey, but the way he was craning his neck and still letting his hand hover just beside Benrey’s shoulder made him feel weirdly claustrophobic.

Despite his size, and the fact he essentially had Benrey cornered, he reminded him of a lost puppy.

“Wha?” The security guard eventually managed to say something, his mind still dizzy from the nightmare.

“Sorry for waking you up.” The scientist pulls away, shrinking into his own seat and letting Benrey sit upright. His voice was quite soft and slow, with a faint, but somewhat comforting singsong lilt. “I figured- I thought I should, in case you missed your stop.”

“...yeah. Thanks.” Benrey hesitated, hoping for the automated voice to butt in and tell him exactly what stop they were coming to next, but it remained silent. Whatever. If he’d missed his stop it wasn’t that big a deal; he’d just ride the whole way round again. The tram was fun. It was quiet, and you usually didn’t have to deal with other people trying to start conversations. 

Speaking of which, the scientist that had so kindly shaken him awake. He was drumming an anxious rhythm against his knee, like he couldn’t sit still. It reminded Benrey a little of how he was as a teen- hell, how he still was if he got put in a bad situation. And his eyes were burning a hole into the window just left of Benrey’s head.

“...Can I help you?” the security guard interrupted the awkward almost-stare contest, shifting his head slightly to meet the scientist’s gaze. In response, he seems to jump a little, making a small noise that Benrey can only interpret as nerves.

“Um.. your hair.”

Hair. Benrey has it. A lot of it, actually. It hangs dark and fluffy just below his shoulders. “Wha’about it?”

“It’s against the rules to- you aren’t allowed to have your hair like that.. you have to pin it back!” the scientist eventually stutters out, motioning behind his head as though performing a charade. If anyone else had tried to tell Benrey he was breaking a rule like that, he probably would’ve cursed them out, but this guy seems so anxious about it he can’t help but feel a little bad.

“Oh. Sorry, I.. I don’t have a tie. I didn’t think that applied to security guards.”

“Well... really, you should have a, um, helmet.”

Helmet. Oh, Christ, had he gone through a whole shift and nobody had told him he didn’t have his helmet? It was the kind of thing that should be obvious, the kind of thing he should have realised as he left, but his memory had been dogshit recently. Honestly, Benrey was a little surprised nobody had reprimanded him, but then again, he’d been stationed outside one of the recreational areas; it wasn’t like he was guarding top secret research, just some nerds sucking at basketball.

“Sorry, I left it behind.”

The scientist sighs loudly, in a way that makes Benrey feel like a kid being lectured by his favourite teacher, and reaches into one of his lab coat pockets. “It’s- it’s okay. I have a hair tie that you can borrow.”

Now there’s a surprise. His hair is clean cut just above his ears, so it’s not like he would need it for himself. Is this dude really that committed to the rules he carries spare hair ties in case of some sort of.. hair emergency? It makes Benrey wonder what other life saving equipment the lab coat might hold. A pen or two, perhaps.

The scientist shuffles over a little and from the pocket reveals a small, red hair tie. It’s kind of cute, actually; it has a little plastic charm that looks like a pair of cherries. “You want- uh, you okay with this one?”

Benrey almost considers asking him if he has other fruits available, but just nods quietly and takes the tie with a small mumble of thanks. He wraps it around his hand and raises it to the back of his head, grabbing a vague fistful of hair. He’s starting to calm down now; the oddness of the interaction took his mind away from.. whatever that dream was meant to represent. Dreams usually meant things, right? Like your shattered psyche or some other stupid psychological shit. As he ponders it, he swipes at his hair, once, twice, three times, but finds the tie just won’t hold. 

“Do… do you need some help?” Benrey can’t tell if the scientist is still anxious or if his tone of voice is meant to signal pity. He turns and gives him the nicest grimace he can manage. The scientist seems to get the hint. Truthfully, Benrey’s not all that sure he can actually manage this- he hasn’t done it in a while, and he would usually use a mirror, but for God’s sake, he’s an adult, he’s twenty-something years old. He can definitely tie his own hair.

After several further attempts, including twisting to try and use the very faint reflection in the tram window, Benrey flops backwards into the chair and extends a defeated hand out to his fellow passenger. He can, most definitely, NOT tie his own hair.

“Oh..! Do you need some help after all?” the scientist seems surprisingly enthusiastic about it. “If you- if you need me to, I can tie it for you.”

“Yeah.” Benrey adjusts himself so he’s facing the window; not just so the scientist can help him, but so he also doesn’t have to see the guard turning red with embarrassment. It’s pretty cringe that he can’t do this himself, but at least this guy doesn’t seem to want to make fun of him for it. “Thanks a ton, uh… what was your name?”

“Tommy!” He feels the scientist lace their fingers into his hair, and instinctively flinches. “Oh- sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No. ‘s fine.” He kicks the side of the chair, focusing on the view outside; they’re passing another grey hallway with nothing of note. “I’m.. Benrey.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Benrey!”

“Just Benrey is fine.”

“Oh! Okay, Just Benrey!” It’s not clear if he’s joking.

He’s being so nice, it almost freaks Benrey out. Stupid as it sounds, he’s not quite used to people being nice to him; at Black Mesa, everyone seems to be weird or cold or just not in the mood to talk. He briefly wonders if Tommy could… potentially, become his friend. Or is that stupid? It’s just a brief interaction on the tram. It’s probably nothing.

While he’s distracted with his own thoughts, Tommy is quickly working away at tying his hair back into a tight, rule-following ponytail. It’s as he does this his fingers accidentally- barely- brush against the back of Benrey’s neck, and the guard immediately jerks forward a little in a mix of surprise and recoil. His head leaps to the question- when was the last time someone had touched him, when they weren’t just shoving past him in the hallway or hitting him to get his attention? It frightens him that he can’t recall. It’s stupid and childish, really, but it plays on his mind - to the point he doesn’t notice the telltale warmth in his throat in time, and he isn’t able to hold back or even attempt to hide the sudden involuntary coughing fit and string of half-formed shapes that erupt from his mouth. Benrey lets out a short squeak and flops forward in embarrassed rage as the vivid red blobs shift and twist around his head, almost mocking him.

Benrey has a very, very vague idea of what that colour means, and he’s suddenly very glad that the Black Mesa SweetVoice is entirely for broadcasting emotion without the use of words and nobody can actually translate it.

Another very gentle nudge at the back of his neck shocks him so much he goes to lean forward again, but in doing so slams his head off the glass window and rolls off the seat, landing with a loud thump. A rather painful sounding crunch suggests he may have just broken several or all of his bones, but the total lack of pain is somewhat encouraging. Or maybe he’s just paralysed numb, by a mix of the impact and the social nightmare he’s put himself in.

“O-oh my goodness! I’m sorry Just Benrey, I didn’t mean to-” From above him, Tommy babbles on, clearly frightened by Benrey’s reaction. Benrey waves his hand weakly and pushes himself to his knees; surprisingly, his back doesn’t hurt at all, despite taking the brunt of the fall. It’s not that tall a seat, really.. it makes sense he wouldn’t be injured, right?

“Tommy, slow down.. 'm fine,” he mumbles as he pulls himself to his feet. “I’m alright. And it’s Benrey. No Just needed.”

The scientist nods apologetically. “Sorry, Benrey.. I didn’t mean to scare you, it was just cause you said to do it again!”

Benrey blinks. “Whuh?”

Tommy gestures vaguely upwards. Benrey’s gaze follows to the ceiling of the tram, where the last of the deep red orbs are dissipating. “Carnelian means ‘do that again’!”

Carnelian means what?

“You can.. read that?” It’s taking a lot of effort suddenly to avoid throwing up a whole canvas of colours. Nobody,  _ nobody  _ can read SweetVoice except the owner, and even then it’s practically guesswork. 

“Yeah!” Tommy seems proud of this, giving Benrey a smile bright enough to melt ice. “I invented it."

Benrey groans, almost collapsing onto the floor again. Of course his first positive interaction in.. however long, was with the person who invented and can also read the bullshit colour wheel emotion beam he has barely any control over with perfect accuracy. Of course! And now he was going to think he was a loser because of some involuntary reaction to some gay ass thought that had been in his head for all of 0.2 seconds. Great.

Though.. as he reluctantly turns to face him, Tommy doesn’t seem bothered. He seems happy; still with that goofy smile on his face, waiting patiently for Benrey to sit back down next to him. And he had immediately went along with the aforementioned gay ass thought. Maybe this isn’t the awful, pathetic, embarrassing cringe compilation moment he thought it was.

Benrey settles back into the chair beside Tommy, rubbing his head- it doesn’t physically hurt either, though it feels like it should. “Sorry. That was an accident, I- I’m not good at controlling it.”

“Why are you apologising, Benrey?”

“Because…” Benrey pauses, trying to think of an excuse. Because it’s embarrassing that he’s that touch starved? No, that doesn’t really make sense. “...Nevermind.”

Silence settles over the tram again for a brief moment. Benrey is very conscious of how he’s now the one fidgeting, practically holding his breath to make sure he doesn’t start spewing rainbows again, and making a point of looking out the tram window so he doesn’t have to think about how Tommy is staring.

“Benrey?”

“Mm?” he glances over.

“Do you want me to finish your hair for you?” Tommy tilts his head a little and gives him a smile; not the same bright beam from earlier, but a small, reassuring one that tells him he really doesn’t think anything of it.

He really doesn’t mind, huh? Maybe this guy’s so used to reading people’s fucked up SweetVoice thoughts he’s just totally immune to it. In fact, Benrey wanting a light pat on the back of his head is probably quite low down in terms of fucked up thoughts. Now that he thinks about it, it’s maybe not that fucked up at all. 

Benrey returns the smile, though it’s a little more strained than Tommy’s. “... Yeah. I’d like that.”

The guard sits with his lips sealed shut as Tommy finishes tying his hair back, and then listens attentively while he rambles about the SweetVoice and his dog and science that Benrey doesn’t quite understand. It’s nice, actually, after he gets over the initial brain fog that came with the awkward situation. Tommy’s a lot nicer that Jeff, and he doesn’t ask any hard questions. It was good to talk to someone again, Benrey realises. Crazy, huh? Social interaction really did make things better. 

He enjoys the ride so much he doesn’t even think about the dream until he gets back to his room. As he takes out the cherry hair tie (which Tommy said he could keep as token of their new friendship, words that almost made him spit pink), it’s almost too perfect timing. The thoughts, the memories, spill clumsily back into his mind as his hair settles on his shoulders.

Benrey grimaced and wrapped the hair tie around his right wrist, before glancing across at the mirror that hangs from his wall. His reflection was that of a stranger, and it stared back at him with total, almost haunting apathy.

Like the night before, he didn’t sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u all for being so patient ..! and for all the love on the first two chapters!! im exhausted constantly OTL but this fic is a lot of fun. mwah


	4. Chapter 4

The crack hadn’t been fixed.

Benrey noticed this when he stopped by the breakroom to get a soda before his shift. Before, it had almost been hidden by the table it was behind; now it had thickened, with long, thin veins clawing their way up and across the length of the wall. The liquid that pooled on the floor had clearly been mopped at some point, so maybe it had been reported and they just weren’t fixing it yet. Or maybe it just wasn’t trickling as fast as he thought it had been.

“Crack’s not been fixed,” he commented to the scientist that was waiting by the microwave.

“What?”

“Crack.” Benrey pointed. “‘S not fixed.”

The scientist seemed wholly unimpressed, taking a long swig from a flask of something Benrey had a feeling was alcoholic. “Then get someone to fix it.”

This was why Benrey usually didn’t bother making conversation.

He’d remembered to bring money this time. One crisp dollar bill landed him a can of cherry Coke, which he cracked open and took a short sip from, still eyeballing the crack. It was.. somewhat unnerving, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the liquid? It was probably just damp or some shit. 

He could feel the scientist’s eyes on the back of his neck, so he pivoted round to meet his gaze and smirked jokingly. “What? Like what you see?”

“You’re a security guard, aren’t you?”

“No, I wear the uniform for fun.”

He could see a blood vessel burst behind the guy’s fogged up glasses. “Don’t fuck with me. What’s your name?”

“At least buy me a drink first.” He hides a giggle behind a well timed sip, noting how the scientist’s grip on his flask tightens. 

“For God’s sake, if you aren’t going to wear a proper name tag at least be willing to state your fucking name!” the scientist snaps with such venom that Benrey almost feels guilty. Had he forgotten his name tag? And he’d been so sure about his helmet this morning as well. His hand flies to his left breast, but he’s surprised to find that his tag actually is there. He knew he hadn’t forgotten it.

“I have my name, man. See? It says right here, Be-”

His name tag is blank. Below the Black Mesa logo and his role details is a series of hasty black scribbles where he  _ swears  _ his name used to be. “...Oh. Sorry, I must’ve… spilled some... Mountain Dew on it.” Where the fuck was his name?

“Well, fucking replace it.” The microwave dings and the scientist straightens up. “Go get a new one from HR or something, we can’t just have you wandering around nameless.”

“You don’t have to be so aggressive..” he trails off as his gaze falls to the scientist’s own name tag. “...Bubby.” He stifles a laugh again, though this time it feels somewhat forced.

“That’s Doctor Bubby to you,” Bubby scowls, taking some unidentifiable microwave meal out with his bare hands (Benrey quietly wonders how safe that is). “I didn’t work my ass off getting a PhD just for some college dropout to treat me like a fool.” He turns a little as he says this and his lab coat whips around his legs, as though to accentuate his point.

“...right.” Benrey isn’t sure where exactly he’d go to get a new name tag; maybe a HR complaint or something? Or maybe he could just steal one and go by a new identity until he got caught.

“Oh. And get someone to fix that goddamn crack before the roof caves in.”

As Bubby leaves, Benrey finds himself looking back at the wall. The liquid seems to have stopped seeping out for now, but it’s left the surrounding floor vaguely sticky and shiny. After a moment of thought, Benrey kneels down next to it and reaches his hand out. As his fingers brush against the crack, a few clumps of drywall break off and fall away. There’s a gap big enough that he could fit his fingers in, if he really wanted to, but an odd sense of guilt and familiarity gnaws at his stomach and eventually forces him to pull back. Thankfully his hand is still dry, so there’s that.

For now he has to go to his shift and get a name tag. But someone- probably him, or someone he tells- has to fix that crack eventually, before it splits the whole wall open. Then the break room would be out of order, and he wouldn’t be able to get soda, or talk to people that hate him.

—

It’s a different day. Benrey can tell because the sky is clear, a brilliant sapphire blue that’s only punctuated by fluffy clouds that look almost out of a storybook. As soon as he blinks awake, the sand is almost too hot for him to handle; it’s weather that requires a proper summer outfit, some shorts or maybe a swimsuit, not the heavy, bulletproof armour he’s equipped with. He curses softly as he forces himself up, shaking himself like a dog to get the sand out of his helmet and sleeves.

This is bullshit. Everything is bullshit. He doesn’t even remember falling asleep; maybe he’s narcoleptic, or maybe it’s a hallucination. But the sun on his face… it feels so real. This… can’t be a dream, right? You don’t have consecutive dreams like this. You don’t have dreams where you feel real sand, real heat, real fear.

It’s a different beach- or perhaps the same one, just a different area. It’s odd, because most coasts tend to be windy- at least, he seems to remember reading that- but there’s no cool breeze here, just pounding heat that makes him feel dizzy. The bluffs here are too steep to climb, not without risk of injury anyways. All there is to do is walk along the sea.

That’s the second thing Benrey notices. There’s nobody else here. He had grown used to seeing that.. person crouched in the water, but now the sea just rolls on, interrupted, to the horizon. It’s an unnatural greenish-blue that seems too still to be real; no waves, no foam, no rocks that jut out like natural barriers, just a perfectly straight line that fades into sky.

After a few minutes of aimlessly wandering, trying to see if there’s any place the bluffs soften out so he can climb for a better view, he stumbles upon a section that seems slightly more rugged than the rest; not in the sense that he can climb it, but in the sense that if he were playing a video game, he would place a bomb and wonder what sort of treasure it held. Benrey doesn’t have grenades, though, and when his hand instinctively moves to his holster, he finds it empty. He tugs at a few stray rocks, wondering if they’ll crack and fall away, but the wall seems too sturdy to break with his bare hands.

“Hey.”

The voice startles Benrey, making him turn; but the beach is still empty. His head’s starting to pound again, almost rhythmically; he can see the tide is starting to move as waves form. The water being still had made him uneasy, but this wasn’t any better. 

“Up here,” the voice calls again, and Benrey swallows sharply, letting his gaze trail up the bluffs to where it plateaued around 10 feet above him. He can see a pair of legs hanging over the edge, swinging slowly back and forth as though they were fishing rods. Their owner must be lying back, because that coupled with the sharp height means he can’t see any more of them. Judging from their voice, they’re young, but their skin is too pale to be the stranger he’s so used to meeting.

Benrey hesitates, taking a few steps back to try and peer over the ledge, but it doesn’t do anything for him. In fact, he swears he hears the person laugh as he does it. The tide is approaching faster than he thought it would, and he can feel the water lapping against his heels. At least his boots are waterproof.

“Hey, where are we?” he shouts up, and this time they definitely laugh back at him; it’s a sort of odd, crackly laugh, the type he wouldn’t match back to the voice he’d heard moments ago.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

Benrey knows that’s true- it’s what he’s been thinking the whole time- but something about it being uttered aloud, by a faceless stranger no less, opens a pit in the bottom of his stomach. “...Yeah. Listen man, I- I’m meant to be at Bla- I’m meant to be in New Mexico. Is this New Mexico?”

“New Mexico is landlocked,” they respond, legs starting to swing faster, like they’re enjoying this. In fact, they must be, because they enthusiastically tack on “dummy.” a moment later. Benrey opens his mouth, a million insults racing through his head, but quickly stops when he feels a cold sensation against his ankles. The water has risen fast, faster than any water should. 

“Not supposed to be here,” the legs remind him, and Benrey scowls.

“Where is ‘here’, then, huh?”

“Somewhere you’re not supposed to be.”

Benrey wonders if this irritation is what Jefferemm feels at all times talking to him.

He pushes his way through the water, noting how it doesn’t seem to ripple around his legs the way it usually would. His attempts at breaking the wall may have proven unsuccessful, but he’s at least managed to carve out some makeshift footholds. Trying to get all the way up to where this weirdo is would be hard, but if he’s careful he might be able to, and it’s better than just quietly waiting for the water to rise.

“What? Are you coming up here now? Dumb move, dude.”

He can’t bite back, because he’s incredibly aware of how fast the water is rising; even though he’s pulled himself a few feet off the ground, the waves are crashing against his hips. A rush of water hits his leg, and for a moment he thinks he’s going to slip and lose balance, but he manages to keep his grip. The rocks seem to sharpen, cutting into his palms so deep he’s certain they’ll bleed.

When he looks up to find his next hold, he sees that the legs have shifted; sitting upright is someone who, much like the person in the sea, is oddly unrecognisable. It’s as though he’s viewing them from fifty feet away instead of about five.

“It’s gonna catch up with you.” They crawl over to lie down right at the edge of the cliff, watching him struggle. “You know that, right? You can try and avoid it all you want, but-”

Benrey grimaces and reaches out a hand, trying to claw his way up, but the rocky surface is unforgiving. He switches tactics and raises his arm towards the sky, inviting the stranger to reach out and pull him to safety. Despite their features being impossible to make out, he swears his tormentor smirks. 

“...Already told you, loser. You can’t get up here. Can’t help you.”

“Please.” Benrey is not one to beg, not usually, but the sea has turned ice cold and is pushing against his neck. It’s almost sickening how pathetic he sounds, a feeling that the person above him clearly echoes, because they shake their hand and mutter something that sounds like “gross” before stretching their legs out and kicking him twice in the head. The sudden force combined with the shock is enough to loosen his grip, and with a small gasp, Benrey crashes into the water, the waves violently swallowing him whole. He was never a good swimmer, and the coldness just exacerbates it, resulting in him sinking further down as he desperately tries to kick and paddle his way to safety. From the surface, he can hear the stranger shout something; something that almost sounds like “Just don’t breathe, stupid”.

This is just a dream. Despite the burning feeling in his lungs, and the blood from his hands staining the ocean water, this is definitely just a dream. Because there’s no logical reason for him to be here, drowning on a beach, when just moments before he was in an underground facility in landlocked New Mexico.

Something below him grabs at his shirt, and though his arms are weakening, he turns to see. As he does, his vision seems to tear, the dark inky ocean ripping at the seams and giving in to a searing bright pink that makes his hands immediately fly to his face. The water has drained as fast as it rose but he still can’t catch his breath. The stabbing pain in his chest is worsening, and his brain is screaming at him to claw his own eyes out, his already bloody palms turning his face a deep scarlet. Benrey jerks back and feels his shoulder connect with something solid, and an ear-piercing noise like glass shattering surrounds him. As he rips his hands away from his face, forcing himself to look at the hot pink checker pattern that stretches before him, three long, black cracks spiral across his vision, bisecting it like lightning. The world seems to jitter and shake as his vision fails and the splotches of pink are ripped to shreds, revealing nothing but darkness.

Just like before.

He was, without a doubt, not supposed to be here.

—

Benrey comes back to reality with a jolt- quite literally, as the tram shudders and slows at its destination, sending him flying out of his seat. The pain of colliding with the wall, coupled with the harsh fluorescent light, shocks him at first- but it’s a welcome change from the eye-searing nightmare he’d been in moments ago.

It had just been a dream. Again.

He’d fallen asleep on the tram. Again.

And that was the end of that.

As Benrey exits the tram, the automated voice cheerily informs him that he’s arrived at Area 3 Medium Security Facilities; the check-in point he visits every day before making his way to his station. The voice, however, also reminds him that he requires identification on his person at all times, and he swallows sharply. They’ll understand, right? After all, whatever happened to his name tag was probably an accident- one he doesn’t remember happening and has absolutely no clue why it would have happened in the first place. Maybe if Jeff’s on duty he’ll bail him out.

The check-in point is surprisingly empty; usually there’s a few guards milling about in the lounge waiting for their shift to start, but today it’s largely empty. There’s a single guard doing a very poor job of monitoring the door into the facilities, as they have their feet up on the office desk and seem to be asleep. Benrey can’t help but roll his eyes. At least there’s a retinal scanner, so he shouldn’t have too much of an issue. He presses his head against the cool metal scanner- no matter how many times he uses one, it still makes him shiver.

There’s a short whir, followed by a clicking noise and then a harsh beep that tells him it’s not recognised. Benrey turns away, then back again. The same happens.

Nothing ever works in Black Mesa, on account of them not being able to get in plumbers or electricians half the time. But he’d kinda hoped that the thing that actually enables him to get to his job would function.

Benrey knocks on the window separating him and the guard on duty, watching as the cheap glass rattles in place. If his sharp knock didn’t wake them up, the noise should have, but they seem content to continue snoring. Most secure facility in the world, his ass.

He tries a few more times to get the scanner to work but to no avail; in fact, as he continues, it seems to reject him faster, the beeps becoming louder and more irritating as he goes. Eventually, out of pure frustration, he gives the scanner a solid punch and it whirs loudly, as though genuinely hurt, and clicks off.

Great. He’s going to be late. And the repair cost is probably going to come out of his paycheck.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?”

The voice shocks Benrey more than it should; he immediately turns to see if the guard was woken by his outburst, but they’re still asleep in their chair. Rather, the voice belongs to a rather irritated looking scientist behind him. 

“‘S broken,” Benrey responds after a moment. The scientist pinches the bridge of their freckled nose.

“Of course it’s broken after a punch like that. Here, I-” he approaches Benrey and places a guiding hand on the guard’s shoulder, immediately making him flinch. “Move out of the way, I can try fix it for you.”

Benrey doesn’t move. In fact, the sudden touch without warning throws any sort of reason out of the window. Being touched, especially by a stranger, is something that’s already proven difficult for him. He opens his mouth to say something- something funny, or an apology, but instead he gets a strong tingling feeling in his throat and doubles over in a coughing fit.

“Jesus, dude, cover your mouth. Are you okay?” The scientist doesn’t take his hand away from Benrey’s shoulder, instead crouching so he can look directly at the security guard. Benrey tries to respond but instead finds himself spitting out a very solid golf-ball sized sphere coloured deep cerise. It hits the scientist square between his eyes, and while Benrey knows the SweetVoice isn’t meant to be painful, he can tell they’re displeased. It at least does the job, as the scientist quickly pulls his hand away and stands up, though he seems a little confused as to how. Benrey inwardly wonders if this is the first time he’s dealt with the SweetVoice, though he definitely has a familiar face- he can’t be that new.

He glances at the scientist’s name tag to see if it helps.  _ Dr. Gordon Freeman. _

...No, he’s a total stranger.

Gordon’s rubbing the spot where the SweetVoice hit him as though scared it’ll leave a mark when Benrey pulls himself together and steps aside. “...Sorry,” he mumbles. Gordon blinks, before casting his gaze to the orb that’s slowly melting into the floor and stepping on it, causing it to vanish completely.

“I’ve never seen it solid like that before,” he comments. He doesn’t seem annoyed, just perplexed as he takes his glasses off and rubs a slight pink smudge off the lens.

Benrey laughs awkwardly. “‘S cause you scared me.”

There’s a very long silence between the two before Benrey eventually steps further back, and Gordon nods appreciatively, moving to the scanner and crouching as he begins to tinker with it. Benrey watches quietly, unconsciously studying his face. He swears he’s seen him before, he just can’t put a finger on where. Then again, he’s probably seen a million people working in this facility. The faces all blur together when all you do every day is let people through doors. Maybe Jeff knows him. He should ask later.

“...Is something wrong?” Benrey snaps up when he hears Gordon say something. The scientist looks back, eyebrow cocked upwards inquisitively.

“Wha?”

“You’re staring.”

“And? You got a nice face.”

Gordon’s eyes widen in a way that Benrey can’t quite read, and promptly turns back to working on the scanner, deliberately brushing one of his sidelocks in front of his face so Benrey can’t see him. Okay. Mental note: stop casually saying things that could be taken as flirting.

He starts to drift over to one of the small seating areas, resting on a hard metal-backed chair similar to the ones on the tram. These things are posture killers, for him anyways, so he changes his mind and lies down across several of them, staring at the ceiling. This part of Black Mesa is surprisingly quiet, free from the usual whirring machinery and buzz of electricity. All he can really hear is the other guard’s soft snores and Gordon quietly humming a familiar tune as he works.

Benrey raises a hand and idly wipes his mouth, aware of how traces of cerise are around his mouth. He’s not sure of the exact meaning- though Tommy’s reading gave him a little insight into how the SweetVoice works- but based on the context he can estimate it’s something like “Don’t touch me please.” That could come in handy in the future. He watches as the hot pink trickles down his hand, becoming a sort of thick red as it travels. It’s odd. There shouldn’t really be so much, should there? And it doesn’t seem to be fading either.

The realisation hits like a bullet through the brain. The liquid seeping from his hands isn’t SweetVoice. It’s blood.

Despite his shock, his hands immediately fly to his throat in an attempt to hold back a further string of colourful emotions. Benrey’s incredibly aware of how fast the blood is seeping from wounds that seemed to open from nowhere, making his neck slick and scarlet as he tries to stop himself from screaming. Instead, he finds himself gasping for breaths as he sits up, steadying himself with one bloodied hand on the seat. There’s no way these injuries came from him punching the scanner- his knuckles are unharmed, it’s just the deep lacerations on his palms he has to worry about. How did he not notice them? Why don’t they hurt? What caused them?

In his panic, he’s not aware of when or how Gordon comes to be sitting beside him, but when he tears his vision away from his gored hands he finds the scientist staring at them with equal confusion. “Are you… what did you do to yourself?” His voice seems to waver as he asks the question, clearly alarmed by the amount of blood.

Benrey opens his mouth, and leaves it open. He doesn’t have a response.

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean, nothi- dude, you’re bleeding! Let me-” Gordon leans in, as though about to take Benrey’s hand, but hesitates. “..Do you mind if I touch you?”

Benrey closes his mouth and nods silently, thankful for the warning this time. Gordon gives him a patient, but worried smile, and takes his left hand in his own. Benrey sits, still feeling as though he’s going to throw up, while Gordon runs his thumb over the cut. It doesn’t sting the way he expects it to; it’s actually kind of comforting. The scientist squints, the tiniest hint of a tongue peeking out from his frown as he focuses.

“It’s deep. You must have hit something pretty sharp.” It’s not clear, but he swears Gordon tuts quietly. “...Give me a second. There should be a first aid kit in the office.”

When he lets go of his hand, Benrey’s arm practically goes limp. In the depths of his brain he’s making vague connections that he really doesn’t want to, and it’s becoming a lot harder for him to not just eject the contents of his breakfast- or, well, whatever the last meal he ate was- when was that again? He just wanted to go to his shitty security job and go back to his shitty dorm and play shitty video games. From out of the corner of his eye, he can see Gordon trying to wake the security guard up with steadily growing impatience. 

“Leave it, dude. They’re not gonna wake up,” Benrey eventually says, wiping his hands against his trousers and not really caring if it leaves a mark. “I’ll- I’ll be fine.”

“You need bandages.”

“‘m fine. Doesn’t even hurt. I’ll get bandages from someone. Is the scanner working yet?” Benrey changes the topic without a hint of subtlety. The faster he gets inside, the faster he can just wash his hands of blood and stop thinking about it.

“Listen, I really think you should-”

“The scanner, Freeman.”

Using his last name clearly caught Gordon off guard, because something flashes behind his eyes and he turns to the door resignedly. “Yeah, I- I couldn’t find anything wrong with it. It probably just didn’t recognise your eyes for.. whatever reason. I’ll open it for you.” Any other day, the scanner not recognising him would be a cause for concern, but right now Benrey doesn’t really care. He stands up and joins Gordon at the scanner, waiting as the scientist leans down to open the door.

He can already feel the blood flow slowing and drying as he balls his hands. It was probably just coincidence. Maybe he’d hurt himself when he was on the tram. There were probably sharp things on the tram. Maybe he’d hit his palm against the corner of the scanner.

The door clicks and slides open, but before he can enter, he hears Gordon inhale as though he’s about to say something else. Benrey turns slightly so he can just barely see the scientist, who’s looking intently at him. His mouth is moving, silently rehearsing what he’s about to say, his hands in his lab coat pockets. Benrey makes eye contact, trying to prepare what’s coming next- a reprimand? A request?- but there’s something about Gordon’s eyes that he can’t quite decipher. To say there’s nothing behind them seems harsh, but it’s more like he’s not all there; like he’s in another world away from this one at all times.

Benrey impatiently breaks the silence. “What?”

Gordon blinks and stops muttering, like he didn’t even realise he was doing it. “You’re still here?”

“You were staring.”

He wonders if Gordon’s going to call him out for doing the exact same thing earlier, but instead he just looks at Benrey’s still-clenched hands. “Just… be more careful in the future.” 

“...right.” That wasn’t what he was expecting for some reason. There’s maybe something to be said in his automatic assumption that whenever someone wants to speak to him it’s because he’s about to get chewed out, but that’s a conversation for when he’s out of Black Mesa and into a therapist’s office. “Thanks. For the… for fixing the scanner. And my hands.”

Gordon looks like he’s about to respond, but the door whirs again and shuts behind him. Benrey watches the scientist pause, before adjusting his glasses again, shaking his head and leaving. It should have been so obvious before- and in a way it was, just not in a way he could process- but it’s not until he sees the back of the scientist’s head that it really clicks. 

He knows why that face is so hauntingly familiar now. He knows, and the thought of it is enough to make him crumple over again, leaning against the wall for support as he retches and pukes a discordant mix of cream and deep blue.

_ I’ve dreamed about you. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for panic attacks and throwing up. it doesnt go too into detail i dont think? but it starts at round about “You’re- stop acting like you’re my dad, man. Seriously.” and ends with "And just like that, the anger melts away."

There’s a loud, incessant knocking in his head, like someone’s trying to cave their way out of his skull with a blunt rock. Benrey would say it woke him up, but he doesn’t think he slept. Rather, he got back to his room when his shift ended at 10, laid down on his floor among the mess of empty Tesla Taco cups and unwashed hoodies, and bored holes into the ceiling for 12 hours straight.

Around five hours in, he had begun to wonder why he hadn’t got tired. So he decided he would try and keep his eyes open, no blinking or squinting, for as long he could. As a sort of weird experiment with no real goal. He expected to get around a minute in before the dust forced him into blinking. He’d gone another five hours when the knocking started.

And it hurt.  _ Fuck, _ did it hurt.

From somewhere to his left he could hear what sounded like a muffled call and he groggily sat up, running a hand through his hair. The noise had ceased, for now at least. Benrey weakly kicked a shirt off his leg and turned to the door, where he could hear two muffled voices arguing with each other.

Oh, of course. Jeff and Josh. Benrey hadn’t eaten in the cafeteria for a few days, or even spoken to either of them. Jeff probably wouldn’t notice if Benrey dropped dead right in front of him, but Josh- the youngest of the three, a poor bastard art major who was living the dream of dropping out and being employed in a government facility with the highest workplace death rate in the country- was stupidly perceptive. 

Benrey would feel bad about ignoring them both, but he wasn’t ignoring so much as not being able to face going outside his room right now if it wasn’t for work. If he saw that fucking scientist again, he might throw up more than colour this time.

The voices fell for a moment, and then his handle rattled a little. Benrey watched it shake back and forth with glazed eyes, wondering if he should open it. Though he wasn’t sleepy, he did feel somewhat weary; more so than usual. That was to be expected after lying motionless for eight hours, probably. He briefly considered sprawling back over his floor again and ignoring it, but he had a feeling that they would either break the door down, or they would assume he’d died in his sleep. The last time that happened, it had ended in a shattered coffee cup, third degree burns all up Benrey’s arm, and Jeff not talking to him for a whole week.

There’s a short pause before the handle rattles again, and then shifts downwards as the door clicks loudly and swings inwards. 

“It was unlocked?” he hears Jeff say, his tone a mix of anger and disbelief.

“Sorry. I.. I was pulling it,” Josh replies awkwardly. “It was a push door. Sorry.”

If it had been any other situation, Benrey would have laughed, but instead he just flops back and returns his gaze to the ceiling. He hadn’t noticed it before, but his room was starting to fall apart; practically all the rooms in this sector were from when Black Mesa originally started, so it’s no wonder, but it’s probably the sort of thing that he should report.

There’s a long, thin crack like a spider’s leg that reaches across the length of the room.

His view is interrupted by Josh’s face, as his co-worker leans over to.. check if he’s awake, or alive, perhaps. Josh pouts and narrows his eyes, and Benrey notes how uncomfortably close he is. They’re probably about 30 centimetres apart, not that Josh has ever had any concept of personal space.

Benrey slow-blinks like a cat, just to let him know he’s still alive, and Josh backs up.

“Heya, Benny,” he says with his typical brand of hesitant enthusiasm and oddly cute nicknames. “Sorry, we let ourselves in.”

“'s fine.”

“Are you... doing alright?”

“He’ll be fine,” Jeff grunts from the door. “You just slept in, right, Benrey?”

Benrey doesn’t respond. From where he’s lying, he can barely see Josh fidgeting with his hoodie pocket.

“Are you sick?”

Benrey makes a vague noise, neither affirming or denying Josh’s question.

“...When was the last time you ate?”

He doesn’t bother responding to that one.

“I- we haven’t seen you in the cafeteria for a while.”

“M’not hungry.” That’s true. He had meant to at least go and pick at some food in the hopes his appetite would pick up, but he just… hadn’t. Then again, Benrey had never been much of an eater. Like sure, he’d eat, but he had.. what was it called again? Some long technical term for a total lack of taste and smell. Josh would remember, if he prompted him.

“Oh. Well.” Josh’s face scrunches, and Benrey can’t help but feel a little bad. “I brought you a KitKat, if you want it.”

“I-” He doesn’t want it, but Josh is (unknowingly) giving him puppy eyes and he has a feeling that if he doesn’t at least try to eat it, he’ll refuse to leave. “..Yeah. Thanks, buddy.”

“I know you have aguesia, but-” Oh, there it is. He could always rely on Josh to remember inane facts about him. “-I remember you liked KitKats, so I thought I’d get you one from the vending machine.”

With a great amount of effort, Benrey pulls himself up and sits cross-legged while Josh crouches and rummages around more in his pockets. Jeff has perched himself on Benrey’s unmade bed, avoiding eye contact; it’s like he’s annoyed, though Benrey can’t quite pick up on why. Maybe he thinks Benrey’s been avoiding them on purpose. Well, that wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t quite the truth either. Yes, he’d become a little more reclusive than normal in the last few days, but that wasn’t Jeff or Josh’s fault, he just-

Well. He didn’t want to think about it. Right now he wanted to focus on his KitKat. He unwrapped it slowly, ignoring Josh’s incredulous gasp when he didn’t bother splitting it in half and instead just taking a bite. It was flavourless, sure, but he didn’t immediately throw up like he’d feared he might.

“You know..” Josh says, sitting on the floor beside him. “You can talk to us anytime, if something’s bothering you.”

“I know.”

There’s a short silence between them while Benrey finishes the biscuit and crumples the wrapping into a small tinfoil ball.

“...Is something bothering you?”

“No.”

Jeff huffs loudly and leans back against the wall. Benrey notes that his right hand is clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Has he forgotten something? 

“Do you wanna play video games or something? We don’t have a shift today, so-”

Benrey adjusts himself a little and looks back at Josh. “Sure. The games are-”

“In the third drawer. I know.” Josh gives him a small, encouraging smile.

“Right. You always remember.”

He shuffles back so he can rest his back against the edge of his bed, his head just beside Jeff’s legs. He can feel Jeff’s eyes burning into his skull- he’s pissed off about something, as per usual- but rather than looking at him turns his attention to his TV. It’s a shitty little thing that came with the room, positioned on top of his chest of drawers that almost never has clothes in it. Balancing precariously next to it is his PS3, a secondhand one from Gamestop that had been a combined gift from Jeff, Josh, and-

“-Josh!” Benrey exclaims out loud, sitting up so sharply his shoulder hits against Jeff’s leg and makes him grumble.

“What?” Josh asks from halfway inside the game drawer.

“No, not you, the-” Benrey ruffles his own hair, like he’s trying to shake his brain into thinking. “Other Josh. Gamestop Josh.”

“Next week,” Jeff grunts. 

“Oh, shit, he’s coming?” Benrey heard Josh say, and he quietly sighed in relief. At least he wasn’t the only one that had forgotten.

“Do you both have fuckin’ Alzheimer’s or what?” Jeff snapped, idly kicking Benrey in the small of his back. “Honestly, neither of you ever remember. Even though it’s the one ti-”

“-one time we can get visitors, I know,” Benrey sighed. No wonder Jeff had been mad. Josh getting to visit was always a bigger deal for him than anyone else, though if you pointed it out or asked him why he’d suck his cheeks in and say they were just good friends. “Sorry, it totally slipped my mind. Thursday, right?”

“Friday. Jesus, don’t you have a calendar or something?”

“I don’t need one, I, I got a photo-photomograph- a fuckin’, uh, perfect memory.”

Jeff snorts, and from the corner of his eye, Benrey sees his hand relax. “Well, he’s coming Friday and he’ll be here overnight, so you better have cleared your busy schedules. And no moping.” No moping. Benrey pretended he didn’t hear that.

“If Twosh-” Josh starts, but he’s cut off by the others both scoffing.

“Twosh?” Jeff sits up, sliding off of the bed to sit properly next to Benrey. He’s perked up a little after the conversation shifted to Gamestop Josh, evident by the shit eating smirk on his face. Predictable.

“Twosh, like, uh,” Josh raises his head from the drawer briefly to glower at them both. “Don’t laugh. Like Josh Two. Two-osh, Twosh!”

“Dude, if anything YOU’RE Josh Two,” Jeff responds. “You’re the younger one.”

“Well, you see me way more!”

“Right. Whatever.”

Josh sulks, turning his attention back to the game drawer. “Well, if he’s coming, tell him to bring better games. Benny’s collection sucks.”

“Whaa? Don’t say that in front of the games, bro,” Benrey complains. He’s joking, but his taste in games is sick. Who doesn’t want to play Deadly Premonition?

“Not their fault they’re bad, it’s your fault for having bad taste,” Josh responds. “Jeff, I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Sorry, Benrey, but you do have bad taste,” Jeff shrugs, and then yelps when Benrey punches him softly in the shoulder. “Watch it, you fuckin’ gremlin.”

“God, you guys are- you’re both so mean to me. Nobody cares about Benrey.”

His friends both laugh, and while Benrey rolls his eyes, he can’t help but smile a little.

-

After much debate, they settle on letting Jeff continue with his pseudo-let’s play of The Simpsons: Hit and Run, a game frustrating enough to play without Benrey’s snide running commentary. One of these days, Benrey knows, he’s going to end up in the medical labs with half a DualShock jammed in his throat. But it’d be worth it.

At one point, he feels a cold drip on his back, and jerks up.

Something had leaked out of the crack in his ceiling.

They called it quits after a couple of hours, as the clock rolled round to noon and Josh declared he was too hungry to continue. “Good,” Jeff commented, dropping the controller to the ground with a clunk. “I never want to see the colour yellow again in my fucking life.”

Benrey takes the controller up and unconsciously flicks the analog stick with his thumb, watching the tiny Bart onscreen run in circles. “You just gotta drive faster, dude.” He receives a deserved thump over his head for that one.

“You wanna come catch lunch?” Josh asks as he stands up, wiping dust off his leg. 

“Uh..”

“We can get pizza!” Josh gives him another smile, but there’s something about this one that unnerves Benrey; it’s almost like he feels sorry for him. “I can pay.”

Benrey opens his mouth to agree, but the same cold liquid hits off his head again and he jumps a little, looking up. Directly above him, the crack seems to have widened slightly into an odd diamond shape. Is it just the liquid, or.. is it… shimmering?

“Hey, looks like you got a leak,” Jeff comments dryly. “Get someone on that before you die of radiation poisoning.”

“‘S just like the one in the breakroom,” Benrey mumbles, to nobody in particular.

“Seriously? No fuckin’ way a crack’s gone that far, it’s like..” Jeff waves his hands in some sort of measuring gesture. “Three? Four doors down?”

“Maybe you’ll get assigned a better room if you complain and they can’t fix it,” Josh suggests.

“Yeah, right.” Benrey scoffed, ignoring the uneasy feeling in his chest. “...You guys go on and get lunch without me, I- I should report this.”

“You sure? Offices’ll still be open after we’ve eaten,” Josh says. Benrey almost flinches at how hopeful he sounds, and raises his head properly so he doesn’t have to see his crushed expression when he denies the offer.

“I’ll get something later, I- I have to- I gotta fix this. Or get someone to.”

He doesn’t see Josh, but his defeated sigh and the shuffle of shoes tells him all he needs to know. He retains his focus on the crack until he hears his door creak shut. There’s no way it widened that much in such a short space of time, it’s impossible, he would have noticed the pieces of ceiling falling. Surely the liquid should be dripping much faster. It shouldn’t be wavering as though viewed on a hot day, or a bad CRT TV. Is it even real?

A sudden hand on his left shoulder makes his gaze snap back down and- reflexively- he coughs a few weak strains of cerise again. Jeff huffs quietly and his grip loosens, though he doesn’t shift his arm away. Benrey’s learned over time that Jeff is a lot better at not just controlling his own SweetVoice, but also not letting others influence him so harshly. He’d asked him to teach him after a particularly foul incident involving a disgruntled scientist and pink pastel, but the older security guard had just laughed and said something about being emotionally unavailable. Whatever that meant.

“Thought you left,” Benrey murmured, swiping his tongue over his lips to remove the traces of pink that remained.

“Josh left.” Jefferemm let his hand fall a little, rubbing Benrey’s arm in a sort of… calming way? He wasn’t sure. “I said I’d catch up.”

“Wha?”

Jeff exhaled heavily. “Listen, Benrey. We need to talk.”

“We just talked for like, two hours, bro.”

“No, I mean… like, a serious talk.”

Great. Jeff was going to give him a pep talk now. They probably all thought he was depressed or something. Well, maybe he was a little, but that wasn’t the issue he was currently faced with.

“I really need to fix this crack, man, can’t it… like, wait?”

“Come on, Benrey, just-” Jeff’s voice raises a little, but he catches himself and sighs. “...Look, I know if you’re not eating in the cafeteria you’re not fuckin’ eating at all, are you?”

Oh, Christ. Benrey looked at his feet. “You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do. I know you.” 

“Hmph..” Benrey pulled his arm away and made an effort to match his gaze with Jeff’s. He briefly considered trying to intimidate him out of his room, but since Jeff was a good Subway sandwich taller than he was, it probably wouldn’t work.

“Just.. listen, I’m not gonna.. I don’t like seeing you like this. And it worries Josh.” Oh, of course, it doesn’t matter unless it worries Josh. “Are you even sleeping?”

“Does it matter?”

_ “Benrey.”  _ Jeff’s gritting his teeth, very clearly trying not to yell.

“You’re- stop acting like you’re my dad, man. Seriously.”

“Well, if you’re not going to take care of yourself, then-”

Jeff raised his hand again, brushing against the sore spot on his shoulder from where he’d fallen on the tram. It wasn’t especially painful, but the sensation was enough.

“I can take care of myself just fucking fine, okay?” Benrey snarled, ignoring the slowly lightening cerise that snuck out of his mouth. He turned to the side to spit a few pinkish orbs out and glowered, tightening his lips to try and keep any further SweetVoice in. Jeff stared at him, his face unreadable; he expected him to angrily storm out or curse at him, but instead it was just the same sort of pitied look Josh had given him. And he fucking hated it. He didn’t need pity. 

“You clearly can’t, you-”

“No. I’m fine. Just leave me alone, please. Go get lunch.” Benrey narrowed his eyes. “Please.”

“I want you to come too.”

“What, are you gonna force me to eat? I already had a KitKat.”

“I’m not letting you starve to death.”

Benrey just looked away at that, tensing slightly as he pulled his arm back. 

Why did Jeff even care so much? No, he didn’t care. This was just because Josh was visiting soon. And it would be a shame if Benrey dying or locking himself in his room ruined his once-a-year trip.

“Why are you being so..?” He’d never seen Jeff so genuinely concerned. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Jesus.”

“Like you have any-” Benrey shook his head and laughed a little, light coral dripping from his mouth. “You- you can’t act all high and mighty about me being a problem. You’re always fuckin’- you- you’re, you’re mad all the time.” Deflection. Classy, Benrey.

Jefferemm’s lips tightened. “Benrey, don’t start acting like a child just because I’m trying to make sure you’re okay.”

“No, I-” he paused as he coughed up another strain of salmon and watched it dissolve into the floor. He scrunched his face and shook his head angrily- he was trying to restrain the SweetVoice, genuinely, but his throat hurt so badly, it was like he was drowning again. Why the fuck was he even so mad? He just needed to be left alone, right? “You’re not even- you’re not doing this ‘cause you care or whatever! You just think I’m being a-” He cut himself off again with a heavy wheeze.

“Christ, are you okay?” Jeff’s hand moves to the side of his neck this time, and the sudden cold touch is enough for Benrey’s eyes to snap back open and his hands to fly to Jeff’s chest, pushing him away. Jeff stumbles back, but steadies himself before he falls. “Dude-”

“You just- you don’t care why I’m not eating or sleeping or blinking or whatever! You’re just doing this cause you don’t want me moping around for when Josh comes ‘cause it’d be a- it’d fuck up his visit!”

Jeff just stares at him blankly. 

“You don’t- you-” He cradles his head in his hand. The knocking is back again. Were the lights in his room always this bright? “You don’t give a shit, man! You don’t even  _ need _ to! I just want to be left alone, okay?!”

“Benrey.”

Benrey doesn’t look up in response, instead squeezing his eyes shut and ignoring the tight feeling in his chest. It’s the same feeling he had before he threw up, right after he saw  _ him-  _ if that had even been real. He doesn’t want to throw up again. He doesn’t want Jeff to drag him to the cafeteria, or the medical bay, or anywhere, he just wants to sit down and- do what? Stare at the wall? Play video games? Go to sleep? Go back to the beach, where despite the uncanny familiarity it’s at least peaceful and he’s usually alone?

“Benrey!”

Jeff’s hand comes down on his left arm again, but it’s properly painful this time- he doesn’t think Jeff meant to hit him so hard, or hit him at all, but it’s a real, searing hotness that quickly spreads. The knocking in his head is replaced by a long, agonisingly loud shatter, and before Benrey knows it he’s grabbed Jeff’s hand and dug his nails in with such force it’s accompanied by a gross cascade of cherry and cotton candy. He opens his mouth and shouts, but the voice doesn’t feel like his own. It’s deeper, and he can’t make out the words. 

And just like that, the anger melts away. Benrey shakes himself, his breath still coming somewhat forced and ragged, and raises his head slowly to look over at Jeff. His friend had taken a few steps back, cradling his hand. He can’t quite see, but his nails have clearly left some sort of raw mark, like a cat scratch. But what gets Benrey is the look in Jeff’s eyes; it’s masked by anger, but he can see it clear enough to know.

Jeff’s  _ scared. _

Jeff. His friend Jefferemm, who was never scared. Jefferemm, who was old and grumpy and smoked cigarettes indoors. Who would shoot without looking, who had taken out violent intruders with a laugh. He was scared. 

Of Benrey.

“...Jeff, I-”

“No.” Jeff sighed heavily, and met Benrey’s gaze. His voice was laced with a sort of venom Benrey had heard before, but not the type he would ever have thought he’d be on the receiving end of. “It’s fine. I get it. You’re not hungry.”

He straightened, letting go of his hand, and Benrey made a point of not looking at it, instead keeping his gaze locked with Jeff’s. His mind was racing with words to apologise, but he was in a state of shock. Had he been fucking possessed? There had been a definite sense of losing control, but- no, he had to have been in control. Right? Was he just avoiding responsibility? There were too many questions. Too much to think about. He shouldn’t be thinking about himself, he should be worrying about Jeff. Worrying about apologising.

“Jefferemm.”

His friend seems noticeably tense at the use of his full name. 

“Listen, I-I’m sorry I-”

He’s cut off by Jeff laughing sharply and shaking his head in disbelief. “No. Don’t apologise.”

“Wh..wha-”

“Just-” Jeff lets his arms drop to his side, defeated. The fear in his eyes is gone, replaced with a sort of dull disinterest. “...Whatever. Starve yourself if you want to. I just wanted to help.”

The handle rattles as Jeff pulls the door back open. “Oh, and fucking lock your door for once.”

The door slams shut.

Jeff has only been gone a few seconds before Benrey falls to his knees, sitting on the floor and trying to ignore how shaky his hands still are, or the burning sensation in his eyes and throat that come with trying not to cry. He’s not forcing himself to not cry, but for whatever reasons, the tears won’t come. And the knocking noise in his head won’t quit.

And then his ceiling cracks loudly, like a whip, and the plaster gives way and collapses.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (waves) sorry this chapter took a long time to write. thank you all so much for 500 views!!! mwah!!!!


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